


Gloves

by NinetyWrites



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff, M/M, idk really, maybe a bit ooc?, still tagging it, trace amounts of fiddauthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6320002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinetyWrites/pseuds/NinetyWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Fiddleford decides that some safety gear is in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is based on a tumblr post I wouldn't be able to find now if I wanted to, so for anyone that follows me on there, this isn't the prompt I mentioned.

It was a warm Sunday afternoon. Fiddleford had been staying with Ford in Gravity Falls for two months now, and so far, things were going relatively smoothly with the project. Fiddleford knew they what they were building- in Ford’s words, “this could change everything we know about, well, everything! There’s most likely going to be extraterrestrial life on the other side of this portal when we finish, and who knows? They may have discovered entire fields of study we didn’t even know existed! Can you imagine how much the world will change once this is complete? We’re making history!” He also knew that a machine of this scale wouldn’t be very safe to build by any stretch of the imagination.

Now, Fiddleford knew Ford. He’d known him since college, he’d been his lab partner in _physics_ of all things, and if there’s one thing he knew about Ford’s lab safety habits, it was that they were nonexistent. He’d seen Ford handling _radioactive waste_ the other day without any protection. Naturally, because he typically assumed the role of the person who kept them alive (the number of times he’d had to remind Ford to do basic things such as eating and sleeping in the past week alone was simply ridiculous, but then, this was Ford we were talking about), he decided that enough was enough.

Today, his number one goal was to get safety gear for experiments (middle-school-level lab safety rules and whatnot). He decided to go to Gravity Falls’ own Construction Depot. Once he acquired two pairs of goggles, the next item on his list was gloves. They didn’t have to be anything special. Even something as simple as gardening gloves would do.

Once he arrived at the gardening equipment aisle, he scanned it for gloves. Once his eyes found the easy-to-spot yellow, he made his way over to them and picked up a pair for himself, briefly examining the gloves in his hand. _Yes, these should be per-_

_Oh._

Gloves were supposedly one-size-fits-all, but he quickly realized that he was trying to buy gloves for _Stanford,_ and there wasn’t a six-fingered pair in sight.

He considered his options carefully, since this was a quandary not many people found themselves in. He could:

1\. Purchase two pairs of gloves and hope Ford would be okay with squeezing two fingers in one hole. (No, he wouldn’t do that to him. It’d be uncomfortable at the very least.)

2\. Purchase one pair for himself and leave Ford with unprotected hands once again. (Wasn’t that what he was trying to avoid? Wasn’t that the reason he had gone shopping in the first place?)

3\. Purchase one pair for himself and, with a great bit of effort, make a pair for Ford. (His only real option.)

He’d never really been one for crafts, but his skills as a mechanic meant that his hands were steady and good for detail work. With some luck, he would be able to pull this off. Hopefully.

He got another two pairs of gloves for Ford’s special ones and checked out, realizing on his way to the cashier line that he’d have to stop at the craft store, too. He stopped in there, got the necessary supplies (thread strong enough to handle rubber), and drove back home. He had his work cut out for him.

* * *

After roughly an hour of figuring out how to make an extra finger for a glove, sewing, and the occasional finger prick, Fiddleford had finished his work on the pair. He had been careful to make sure that the sixth fingers were large enough and that there weren’t any holes left in the gloves for any mystery fluid to seep into. Now that he looked at the finished product, he noticed that they weren’t the most handsome pair of gloves he’d ever seen, but that was hardly of importance compared to functionality. _And these,_ he noted with a hint of pride, _are functional_.

_And would you look at that! Just in time for us to get back to work!_

Fiddleford walked down the staircase, the goggles (he still couldn’t believe Ford hadn’t owned _safety goggles, of all things_ ) and gloves in his hands. When he reached the bottom, Ford was already at work with an equation that seemed like it would take… well, he wasn’t quite sure how long it would take to solve, but it’d be a while, that was for certain. Fiddleford tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ford?”

“Let’s see if we take… oh. Yes, Fidds? What is it? Is something on fire?”

“Well, no, but I wanted to talk to you about something related.” Ford looked slightly confused at this, but Fiddleford continued.

“You see, after the, uh, _incident_ with the radioactive waste the other day, I decided to get some safety supplies. You know, so we don’t die on the job or lose any limbs. Can you see what I’m talking about?”

“Not particularly, but if it would make you feel a bit more secure, I suppose some precautions couldn’t hurt. What did you have in mind? Lab coats?”

_Dammit. I forgot the lab coats._

“Well, I actually went to the store already and picked up a couple of things.” He handed Ford a pair of safety goggles. When his hand touched a six-fingered glove, he hesitated a half-second before continuing. “They didn’t have any gloves that would fit you at the store, so I made some special. Hope they’re alright.”

Ford took the gloves into his hands, his eyes slightly widened. Slowly, he pulled them on. They were a perfect fit. His voice a bit on the softer side, he said, “thanks, Fidds.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, really. I… I appreciate this. You know, sometimes I’m not quite sure what I’d do without you.”

Fiddleford tried to disguise the part of him that had just melted a bit with a sardonic chuckle. “Die in some horrific lab accident, probably.”

Ford frowned a bit, furrowing his brow. “You know, there might be a bit of value in lab safety. Maybe we should put up yellow tape near the portal construction site.”

 _You think?_ , Fiddleford wanted to deadpan. Instead, he settled for a less sarcastic sentiment. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll go get some tape from upst-”

“Wait. Before you go.” Ford pecked him on the cheek and pulled away giving him that smile, that warm smile he always got whenever Fiddleford had done something particularly kind. Both blushing a bit, Fiddleford uttered an “I’ll go get some tape from upstairs” before turning around to do just that.

It paid to be thoughtful, didn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to reach out to me, feel free to do so at ninety-writes.tumblr.com.


End file.
